


Sickness Under The Skin

by noodlerdoodler



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Potentially triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlerdoodler/pseuds/noodlerdoodler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as Rose seemed to know, she didn't seem to understand that he wasn't a germaphobe. He disliked germs as much as anybody else but that wasn't why he felt the need to scrub furiously at the palms and backs of his hands, making sure to rinse between his fingers, rubbing at the insides of his wrists until he reached his elbows. It was nothing to do with lingering germs or diseases, if they even existed in this new world yet. What Rose didn't understand was that the germ was already inside him, curled around his bones and licking at his flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickness Under The Skin

There's something toxic running deep under his skin, spreading through his veins, and Dirk has known it for years. There's something about him that isn't quite right but he has no idea what it is- all he knows is that there's only one way to banish whatever it is poisoning him from the inside out. And that is to cleanse. To cleanse is to wash the wrongness creeping through his pores away down the sink to keep himself and everybody else safe. It's important that Dirk keeps everybody else safe. He's always worried that he won't be able to. 

Because sometimes, there are thoughts that creep into his mind whilst he's working on his robots or when he's trying to sleep late at night or when he's eating his breakfast and that's the poison at work in his mind. That's when he knows that it's getting bad and that's when he works hard to shift whatever it is from under his skin. Because if he washes enough times, cleanses enough times, eventually the toxic liquid in his blood will be washed down the sink and into the ocean and far, far away. And once that's gone, the bad thoughts will go too. The fears, the worries, the problems, they can all be washed away with soap and wanted. It's just going to take work. 

He knew this long ago, before the game even started, and has lived by the idea that it will all be gone someday for quite some time. He's always felt the poison crawling through his veins, itching under his skin. He's always had the fears knocking on the door of his mind, demanding entrance, and he's always known that he has to cleanse them. That all worked fine when he lived alone, with nobody else around, but now that they've won the game and he no longer has his small world with nobody else around... It's harder. Because, for some reason, the handwashing feels like a private activity. Like a guilty pleasure. 

'Some reason' referring to Rose Lalonde and her psychoanalysis bullshit, of course. She's his kind of younger sister and daughter from another dimension- it's a little hard to explain, so he won't bother- and she's a genius when it comes to picking up on details. They're very alike in that way, Dirk and Rose. In fact, they're very alike in several ways but listing them all would be tedious and would take a long time. The point is Rose was drawn to him at the celebratory party, after they won the game, and she spoke to him at length about his habits. 

She claimed that she had noticed the chapped and broken skin on his hands, which he didn't even realise that he must have rubbed raw during his last cleanse, and that she was concerned. She said that his behaviour was symptomatic of obsessive compulsive disorder and that she'd like to talk to him about it, if she could. Before he could respond, she continued anyway. She talked at length about intrusive fears and worries that can easily trigger compulsive behaviour in people as a coping strategy. She spoke about germaphobes washing their hands until they were bloody and about people that couldn't leave the house, for fear of coming across somebody with a virus. 

Dirk had agreed that was interesting and quickly excused himself to the bathroom. Because as much as Rose seemed to know, she didn't seem to understand that he wasn't a germaphobe. He disliked germs as much as anybody else but that wasn't why he felt the need to scrub furiously at the palms and backs of his hands, making sure to rinse between his fingers, rubbing at the insides of his wrists until he reached his elbows. It was nothing to do with lingering germs or diseases, if they even existed in this new world yet. What Rose didn't understand was that the germ was already inside him, curled around his bones and licking at his flesh. 

He hasn't spoke to her since then but he's felt the need to wash his hands in private, locking himself into the bathroom in his new home. When everybody had set about building and creating homes, he had chosen to stay as far away as possible without seeming suspicious. He didn't want the monster under his skin crawling out of him and into somebody else. No, it was better to focus on washing the demon under his skin away and keeping it away from the others, from his friends, so that it didn't get to them. He didn't want them to get hurt, to get dirty, to get infected like he was. So, he keeps his distance. 

He stays at home most days. Reads, watches TV, builds robots to fight and breaks them apart with his katana. Builds them back up and beats them down again; it's an endless cycle that parodies the battle with the sickness under his skin. He cleanses frequently, making a note on the notepad attached to the refrigerator each time, and for a while, it seems to help. There's a relief that comes with the washing that settles his stomach and opens up his chest so that he can breathe again. Once he's clean, it feels as if he's new and fresh again. Then, the sickness will creep back into him. Bad thoughts will bloom in his mind like ugly flowers. He can't tear them out of the ground, he can only bury them under more dirt. The circle never ends. 

Some days, Roxy or Jane will come to visit him. They're very good friends to him in very different ways- Jane is more of a motherly figure that bakes (no longer using the help of Betty Crocker, of course) and lets him help her. Sometimes, they'll watch one of her lame movies afterwards. Dirk is willing to sit through them because she's good company and can make any movie seem fun. Not to mention, the movies might be a little better than he likes to admit. It's not a crime to enjoy Jane's movies with her, after all. Not to mention, Jane is the nicest person in the entire world, sweet and kind, which is perhaps why she offers to bandage his hands for him. 

He is confused, when she asks if he'd like her to, because he doesn't understand what she can possibly mean. Gently, she takes his hands and turns them over so that he can see. And she tells him in her sweet voice that they're obviously sore and the skin is raw and vulnerable and she doesn't want them to get infected. He nearly tells her then, that they are infected, can't she see that? Can't she see the bad thoughts and wrongness underneath his skin? But he just nods willingly and keeps still while she carefully dabs at the raw skin, cleaning it, before she bandages from his fingers to his wrists. Dirk tries to thank her but the words get stuck in his throat. All he can do is nod and she smiles. 

He can feel his skin itching underneath, later, needing air to breathe. The bandages are good for trapping the demon in his skin so it doesn't touch anybody else but he can no longer knead the creature out of his skin. There's sickness in him, creeping through his body, and he knows that he needs to wash. His hands needs to be clean, his skin needs to clean, he needs to clean it all the way through. That night, in a frenzy, he tears the bandages apart in his desperation to get them off and immediately feels relief at the cold water splashing over his skin. If only he could feel that dizzying relief all the time, maybe life wouldn't be so difficult. 

When Roxy visits, she wants to play video games with him (both of them cheat incredibly hard in an effort to beat each other and still end at a draw) or to help him with his robots. She might not be the best at building the robots out of scrap metal but she's an avid coder and often corrects any of his failed, half-asleep mistakes. She does it all with a good nature, grinning and cracking jokes, and drinking a lot of soda. Since Roxy doesn't drink anymore, she seems to have settled for Faygo instead. Which is a good decision because they seem to have shit tons of the stuff on this new planet, probably brought by that one crazy clown troll that seems to have an addiction to the stuff. 

Roxy is sweet to him in his own way and asks him a few times if he's doing okay because nobody ever seems to see him anymore. He always sort of shrugs and says that he guesses he's doing fine, (even though underneath he wants to yell and break free of his skin). But she wears him down until he admits that perhaps he's a little troubled but he doesn't want to talk about it. Roxy being Roxy, it takes her a month or two, but she finally coaxes some of his thoughts of him. Sitting across from her on the couch, trying to keep her safe from him, he tells her that he's sick. He's sick under the skin, something there that's wrong and uncomfortable, something that he hates and fears. 

He tells her of the fear he has, the fear of losing her and Jane and Jake and the others, the new people that they've met. He tells her that he can't let whatever he has get near her or the others, that he has to keep himself isolated to protect them. He has to protect them. Roxy purses her lips. She says that maybe he should try talking to Rose, she might be able to help him with some of the thoughts that have been bothering him. He shakes his head and swears Roxy to secrecy. She promises that she won't tell a single soul. Then, Roxy tells him that he can't protect everybody all the time. There's nothing he can do to protect everybody from the world around them. Besides, they're in no real danger anymore. Not here. There's nothing to protect them from. He doesn't need to worry so much. 

Still, he remains uneasy but he shrugs and lets her think that he agrees. Soon after, she leaves and promises that she'll come back soon to see him. She also swears- with an honest to god salute and a cheesy grin- that she'll get him out of the house sometime so that he can hang out with all of them at her place. Then, Roxy is gone and he is alone again. 

It takes him a few hours to realise that when she left, she took a couple of his soaps with her. Not all of them, of course, he would have noticed if all of them were gone. But a fair amount vanish with her and he confronts her over Pesterchum, trying and failing not to seem frantic about it, but she denies knowing anything about it. He tells himself that he'll alchemise some more and scrubs anxiously at his hands with one of the soaps he has left. He doesn't stop until his hands hurt and he's forgotten how to breathe steadily. By then, his skin has opened up again and become pink and raw like a pickled creature in a jar. It's fascinating and disgusting to look at his hands in this state.

The next few days are spent washing and regretting. Because the washing feels so good, the cleansing feels so good and freeing, but the blood that beads on his palms is horrible to look at and he hates it. He hates the rawness and the fragility of his hands. He hates the way they've become vulnerable, sore at the slightest touch, and that he can't stop himself from scrubbing at them anyway. No matter how much it hurts, he can't seem to stop. Because he needs to be clean, he needs to wash it all away, he needs to. It's not a want, it's a need. A frantic need. 

Which is why he's glad when Jane returns with some fresh bandages and he lies about having to tear the old ones off in a manic state. He sits pretty, whilst she ties the clean ones around his sore hands, and he's aware for the first real time of the pain in his hands. They hurt. He rubbed so hard at his hands that he caused them to hurt like this and that makes him wonder what he's doing wrong. Because the sickness still lies under his skin, no matter how hard he works to wash it away. He must be doing something wrong. He should try cleansing again, to see if it works this time. The urge to wash is overwhelming but Jane keeps him there, chatting as she finishes bandaging his wrists. He's expecting her to leave afterwards but she doesn't. 

Jane has brought the right ingredients with her to bake a cake and even though his hands are sore, he helps her anyway. When she notices his winces, she asks how long he's been doing this for. Washing, she says she means, you know. He says that it's been as long as he remembers but he never remembers it rubbing his hands this sore before. She suggests that he's just overworked his hands like dough and that he should let them rest, let them recover. And she asks, casual as can be, if he'd ever rub _her_ hands raw like that with soap until they hurt. And he says, in shock, that of course he wouldn't. She says that he might as well, it hurts her just as much to see him like that. He stares at his hands and has to go and lie down, feeling suddenly nauseous. 

She leaves him cake and a nice note, before taking some more of his soap with her when she leaves. He notices it missing when he tries to cleanse after she's gone, trying to wash the guilt away now; but when he sees her note (reading: _Hope you're feeling better!_ ) propped up against his toothbrush, he can't bring himself to do it. He doesn't wash, letting his skin burn under the bandages. By now, he's down to the bare minimum of his soap and he can't afford for them to take anymore. But he doesn't yell at Jane for it. It's impossible to yell at Jane and be harsh to her, she's so sweet to everybody. And, he realises as he stares at his hands and forces himself to keep the bandages on, she's trying to help him. The girls are trying to help him. By taking his soap, they're trying to help him. 

And for the first time, feeling the venom seeping into his veins fills him the usual need, but he doesn't give in to it straight away. The waves of desperation and need wash over him but he lasts an hour before he caves. Once he's cleansed, he re-bandages his hands and doesn't allow himself to touch them any longer. And he sends a message to Rose, choosing his words carefully, asking her if she's still willing to talk to him. Because, he realises, that the sickness is bad but the washing is worse. The cleansing hurts, turns his skin pink and raw, and he doesn't like it. Rose sends back a message, saying that she'd be happy to meet him. 

She comes by the next week and joins him on his couch and they talk it through. They talk about his childhood and how he lived alone with nobody to talk to. Rose tells him that she thinks his isolation is the reason that he's so scared that he'll harm other people- because he lacks experience with other people and sees them as fragile, as vulnerable. But, she says, she has no reason yet for the feeling that lies under his skin and licks at his bones and slithers through his veins and pokes at his brain. She might find a reason, she might not, she's not sure yet. But Rose says she's sure of one thing and that's that she is going to help him. She'll help him, somehow. 

She warns him that they might not be able to "fix" anything but she's going to help him cope, help calm his anxieties and conquer his compulsions. The whole time, he's nodding and finally like he can breathe a little easier, like his lungs open up a little wider. He's going to get better, he's going to be able to fight his the poison and the bad thoughts without having to wash his hands so hard that it hurts. It's like breaking the cycle, like tearing up the ugly flowers- he is getting somewhere, at last, and Rose will help. 

This is a new beginning. 

Towards the end of the month, somebody else comes to visit him. Dirk is expecting to open the door to Roxy and a stack of new video games she managed to alchemise or Jane with her arms full of baking ingredients and a new recipe. Perhaps even Rose, he could expect. He's not expecting to open the door to Jake English, who is shifting from foot to foot on the doorstep. They haven't spoken in a long time, certainly not since the game ended, and Dirk forgot how much he missed the sight of him. Jake seems similarly pleased to see him again, smiling and babbling about how much he's missed him. 

Dirk invites him in and Jake stands in the hallway, shutting the door behind him, and just stares at him like he's not sure what else to say. Because it's a little awkward. Back when they were dating, Jake had known about Dirk's compulsive need to cleanse but he'd had no idea what to make of it. It was clear then that it scared him and it clearly scared him now too, judging by the way he eyes Dirk's hands. Back then, Jake had freaked out about the whole thing and begged Dirk to stop, please, stop. Dirk had left him for his insistence on that. 

But now, Jake smiles and says again that he missed him. Dirk points out that he already said that and Jake says he knows but he needs to say it a thousand times to make up for how stupid he was. He apologises for not coming to see Dirk earlier several times in several different ways. 

Dirk apologises for not coming to see him either but he was worried that he was going to hurt him somehow. No, wait, let him rephrase. He was worried that he would pass what he had onto the others, especially Jake. He'd been scared of giving the sickness to Jake. Jake looks surprised to hear this but he nods, taking it in slowly, absorbing the words so that they mean something to him. He waits until Dirk is finished talking. 

And then, he says that if Dirk wouldn't mind, he'd really like to be friends again. Maybe more than that, someday, after they get used to each other again. After they figure out a new way to fit together and get to know each other inside out like they used to. But, Jake says, he's not going to rush into dating this time and he's not going to push Dirk to be his boyfriend. He's not going to make him do anything until Dirk is ready. Something tells Dirk that Jake has been talking to Rose too. 

Jake continues, saying that he shouldn't have said Dirk was overbearing. He had no idea what he was going through at the time, he hadn't understood then and he didn't now. Not really. But if Dirk could talk to him, open up a little instead of burying his problems inside himself, Jake would like to try and understand as best as he can. 

"And, if you don't mind too much, I'd like to help you in any way I can." Jake finishes. 

"Yeah. Yeah, that would be cool." Dirk says, and he means it.


End file.
